Brian Corcoran, Wateford, Billy Morgan and more.... Part 2

[Dinny Breen]

GUIDING LIGHTS . . . BRIAN CORCORAN RATES THREE OF HIS CORK MANAGERS ON DONAL O'GRADY His technical knowledge of the sport was unsurpassed. He showed us ways of hooking and blocking that nobody had shown us before, and yet it was so simple. Most players make the mistake of tracking the opponent's hurley when attempting to hook him, but O'Grady's attitude is that, if the hurley goes up, it must come down, so stick your hurley in, wait for his to come down and it'll hit yours.

He had this natural authority and presence. Although players were encouraged to have their say, he could be dictatorial at times. His style was a bit like Brian Clough's. One time, a reporter mentioned to Clough his reputation for not listening to his players. "That's not true, " Clough countered. "I invite them in here all the time, ask them for their opinion, and, after they tell me what it is and I say what I have to say, we all agree that I was right."

It was all mind games with O'Grady. In the 2003 All Ireland final, the lads had got little protection from Kilkenny's occasional tendency to tackle high by putting the hurley around the neck.

Before the 2004 final, O'Grady went to have a word with the referee. In training that week, we'd been practising a puckout situation where Sully [Diarmuid O'Sullivan] would run in and take the puckout and pass to Donal Og [Cusack]. "I'm just clearing that with you, Aodan [Mac Suibhne]. There's nothing illegal about it." Mac Suibhne nodded, and O'Grady headed away, but then he turned around. "And by the way, Aodan, you might watch out for the high tackle too."

ON BILLY MORGAN I've met some extraordinary people in my life, but, of them all, Billy Morgan is the most intense.

One night, we were having a game in training, and Morgan, being the liveliest fortysomething ever known, was playing too. A ball broke, and Billy and Gary McPolin both went after it. McPolin was a lot like Billy. He was hardy, and his attitude was "Well, if you're playing the game, you're playing the game." Next thing, McPolin had flattened Billy with a shoulder, and Billy was on the ground. And the moment after that Billy was back up and McPolin was on the ground.

We were shocked. This once, Billy's passion had brought him too far. Billy knew it too. The next night at training, when he was picking the teams, he quipped, "Well, Gary, I better go with you tonight!" We all laughed. If at times Billy's passion got the better of him, though, it was that same passion that served him and Cork so well.

Long before today's video analysis and stats became the norm, Morgan was showing us clips from our games and clips of upcoming opponents. The man was way ahead of his time. And when he talked to you, it was just like Jimmy [Barry-Murphy] with the hurling: the fact it was him who was saying it made you take to that field feeling like Superman.

ON LARRY TOMPKINS Then there was the hill in Macroom. First, we'd warm up on the club pitch below. And by 'warm up' I mean we'd do about 40 minutes of running around the field in pairs, with the two at the back sprinting to the front every few seconds. Then we'd face the hill. There was a makeshift light at the top, but even there you'd barely be able to make out who everyone was.

You could spot Colin Corkery alright, hiding behind one of the trees, probably wondering where the nearest football or asylum was. But when Larry was up there, there was no rest for the good, the bad or the wicked.

One night, as I dragged myself up it for the umpteenth time, I could feel the vomit in my throat.

I stopped, but, just as I leaned over to puke, Larry grabbed me and threw me down the hill. My legs went into freefall and then my stomach into overdrive. I puked all the way down to the end. Waiting there was Frank Cogan, ready to push me back up.

On nights like that, as you heard the pounding and panting and puking all around you in the dark, I seriously questioned our sanity. But this was Larry Tompkins driving us on. He wasn't asking us to do anything he hadn't done himself, and he'd been the outstanding player of his generation. "You don't want to be SOFT!" he'd snarl. And we didn't want to be soft. We wanted to win.

[youbetterbelieveit]

good article Dinny, where did that come from?

[Dinny Breen]

It was in Sunday's Tribune, I'm surprised it wasn't posted before now...